


Very, Very Frightening

by RushingHeadlong



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Power Outage, Thunderstorms, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Reader Insert, very brief fade-to-black mention of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RushingHeadlong/pseuds/RushingHeadlong
Summary: You’re not a fan of power outages, but at least Freddie is there to remind you that you don’t have to face it alone.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/You
Kudos: 4





	Very, Very Frightening

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from tumblr (@RushingHeadlong).
> 
> As with all my Freddie/Reader fics, this is a male reader insert character (in this case, specifically a trans male reader) not a female reader. That's made clear in the fic, but I'm reiterating it here in case you missed the M/M tag.
> 
> Original Notes: Written for a request for more Freddie x trans-m!Reader fic. Usual disclaimers about binders apply- namely, I’m not researching anything about binding in the 70s so just go with it. Also all monsoon information is taken from my college meteorology courses five years ago because (apart from confirming that Zanzibar was within a monsoon area) I wasn’t doing more research there either.

By the time you finally get home you’re soaked to the bone. You wrench open the door and the wind pulls it away from you, slamming it up against the side of the building before you can wrestle it closed again behind you. It does little to quiet the sounds of the storm raging outside, but at least you’re out of the rain.

“There you are, darling, I was starting to worry you got swept away in all this!” Freddie says. He gives you a quick kiss and hands you a towel, and takes your sopping wet jacket from you when you peel it off. “Go get changed into something dry, I’ll make you a cup of tea to help you warm up.”

You kiss Freddie again in thanks, taking care not to lean against him and get him wet too. “Is anyone coming over tonight?”

Freddie shakes his head. “Rog was going to, but he decided against it when the weather turned. So go put on something comfortable, alright?”

_Something comfortable_ is Freddie’s way of telling you to take your binder off. You’re still uncomfortable going without it in front of others, but it no longer bothers you to spend an evening with Freddie without wearing it. It helps that he’s always been so politely matter-of-fact about your gender, never pushing your boundaries or making you feel uncomfortable.

It also helps that you’re madly in love with him and trust him more than anyone else in the world. Given that, it’s surprisingly easy to choose to forgo the restrictive piece of clothing, at least on good days and when it’s just the two of you.

Freddie hangs your coat up to dry, and you try not to drip water all over the place as you make your way to the bedroom and start peeling off layers. Everything is soaked through from the veritable hurricane raging outside and even the towel Freddie gave you does little to make you feel dryer.

You’re halfway through wrestling your way out of your binder when a flash of lightning brightens the room and the lights overhead flicker ominously. That’s not a good sign.

“Freddie?” you call out, still caught in the tangle of clinging, wet spandex. “Did the lights just-?”

“I’m afraid so, darling,” Freddie says. He peers around the doorway of the bedroom and tries, but largely fails, to hide an amused smile when he sees the state you’re in. “Do you need help with that?”

You sigh, nodding in glum defeat, and Freddie steps forward to help you get the binder off. “I’ll go hang this up so it doesn’t get ruined,” he says as you quickly throw on your favorite old sweater.

“And I’ll get dinner started,” you tell him. It’s early still, but your building is old and prone to losing power in bad weather and you don’t want to take any chances.

“I already did that, lovie,” Freddie says, sounding a bit smug about it.

You give him a look of both surprise, and heavy skepticism. “ _You_ cooked dinner?”

“Well, I started reheating soup and made toast,” Freddie admits, and you laugh. That sounds much more his style. “Did it when I put the kettle on, so it should be just about done now.”

The toast is certainly done, and the soup is bubbling happily away on the stovetop- a little _too_ happily, in fact, and you’re quick to turn the burner down and give it a stir. You season it a bit more to hide the slightly burnt taste, finish making two cups of tea, and are just pulling down plates and bowls when another gust of wind shakes the building.

The flights flicker again, browning out for a moment before feebly coming back on… and then a loud clap of thunder rattles the windows and the lights cut out completely, plunging the room into darkness. Your breath hitches and you’re thankful that the gas burner on the stove is giving off at least a little light.

There’s a a thump from down the hall, and you jump before you hear a familiar muffled curse. “Fred?” you call out. “Everything alright?”

“Fine, just fine, darling,” Freddie says as he walks, carefully, into the kitchen. “Bumped into the bathroom sink when the power went out, that’s all.”

With the power out and the storm raging outside there’s hardly any light coming in through the windows, apart from the occasional flashes of lightning. “Do you remember where we put the torches?” you ask Freddie, voice hopeful.

“Bedroom closet, I think, but we never picked up batteries for them,” Freddie says. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and reaches around you to grab one of the many candles scattered throughout your flat. “Luckily for us, my taste in decorations comes in handy in emergencies like this.”

“At least until you burn the place down,” you say as Freddie lights a second candle. You try to keep your voice light, because you know it’s silly to be afraid of a little power outage and you don’t want Freddie fussing.

Freddie scoffs. “I’m not going to burn the place down with a few candles, honestly…”

You, wisely, decide not to answer that. Still, now that you can see what you’re doing, you’re quick to dish out dinner and switch off the burner. You nudge Freddie, stopping him from lighting a third candle, and tell him, “C’mon, let’s get set up in the living room.”

You take the candles with you, and as Freddie lights a few more around the room you pull out the small battery-powered radio that hardly gets used and try to turn it on. It stays silent, even after you hit in frustration. “First thing tomorrow morning I am buying new batteries,” you mutter as you toss it across the room.

Freddie laughs as he lights the last candle, and sits down next to you on the couch. “Well, even without music I think this is a wonderfully romantic little evening, wouldn’t you agree, dear?”

Another rumble of thunder shakes the house, louder than before. It makes your heart race, and you wait for the storm to quiet down for a moment before saying dryly, “Oh, yes, it’s _very_ romantic to be stormed in without power, which means no heat and few options for things to do to pass the time.”

“I have a few ideas on how we can stay warm and pass the time…” Freddie purrs, one hand on your thigh as he leans in to kiss your neck.

You turn your head at the last second and capture his lips with your own, keeping the kiss lighter than you know Freddie wants. When you pull away he pouts a little and you laugh, and promise, “Later, maybe. We can’t spend all evening having sex just because the power’s out.”

Freddie huffs, over-dramatic and exaggerated, and says, “I can’t believe I ended up with the most un-romantic boyfriend in all of London.”

You know he’s joking and you don’t take offense, especially not when he curls up against your side. It’s comforting having Freddie pressed close to you as the two of you eat dinner in an easy silence. It helps soothe some of your nerves, and you start to relax for the first time since the power cut out… At least until the room lights up with another bright flash of lightning, immediately followed by a crack of thunder so loud that you jump at the sound of it.

Your sudden movement dislodges Freddie, who yelps as his tea sloshes over the side of his cup and onto his hand. “Shit, shit!” he swears, quickly setting his cup and shaking out his hand.

“Oh, god, Freddie I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” you ask, fumbling to set down your own bowl and cup.

“I’m alright, darling, it wasn’t too hot,” Freddie assures you, but he gives you a curious look and asks, “Are _you_ alright though? You’re not usually one to startle that easily.”

You force a laugh, prepared to brush aside Freddie’s concerns, when the building shakes with the force of another lightning strike. You let out a small, startled _“Eep!”_ and burrow closer to Freddie.

Freddie immediately wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close. “I didn’t know you were scared of storms, lovie,” he says. You can hear the amusement in his voice but you appreciate that he’s not laughing at you, even though you know you’re being ridiculous.

“I’m not afraid-” Your breath hitches as another loud _crack!_ momentarily drowns out the sound of the rain and gusting wind. “It’s not the storm. I _like_ storms, usually.”

“Then what is it, dear?”

“I get nervous when the power goes out,” you admit. “I don’t mind the dark and I don’t mind the weather, but something about the two together…” You shiver, and Freddie presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “What if the phonelines go down and something happens and we can’t get help? Or it starts flooding and we’re trapped in the dark and no one can get to us? Or the storm lasts for days and the heat doesn’t come back on and-”

“Okay, darling, that’s quite enough of that,” Freddie says. He stands up, pulling you with him, and he doesn’t let go of you as he blows out all the candles except one which he picks up to the guide the way into the bedroom.

“Fred, I’m not in the mood for-”

“Oh, hush, we’re not in here for that,” Freddie says, though as he pushes you gently down onto the bed he smirks a little and adds, “Although, if you do change your mind…”

You know he’s mostly teasing to try to cheer you up and you smile at him, a little crookedly but still completely genuine. Freddie beams back at you and says, “Now, darling, get under the covers. I’ll blow out the candle so we can just pretend that we’ve gone to bed early, and I’ll talk your ear off until you forget all about the storm, alright?”

“Alright,” you agree, though you’re not sure that _anything_ could really make you forget about the tempest raging outside or the way the building creaks and groans around you.

Still, as another flash of lightning brightens up the room, you follow Freddie’s orders and dive under the blankets. This time Freddie does laugh, but it isn’t mean-spirited, and a moment later he joins you under the covers. He opens his arms and you scoot into them, tucking your face into the crook of Freddie’s neck as your quiet whine is drowned out by the rumble of thunder.

You’ve always felt a little childish, getting this scared by power outages. You know that the odds of something catastrophic happening are very, very small but it somehow knowing that doesn’t help in moments like this. Neither does having your partners tell you constantly, and condescendingly, that your fears are unfounded.

So you’re grateful that when Freddie starts talking he says nothing of the sort.

“When I was a child, we had monsoons. Proper ones, for three months of the year, every year like clockwork. It didn’t rain constantly throughout the day, but the torrential downpours when it _did_ rain were unlike anything else.”

Freddie’s voice is soft, and you listen without saying anything. It’s not often that Freddie talks about life in Zanzibar and even now there’s a distant, thoughtful note in his words, as if he’s thinking back to some half-forgotten dream rather than recounting his own memories.

“And the storms that came at the end of the season- you’ll never see lightning like that here in England, lovie, that’s for sure! And the _floods_ , my god the floods! The streets would fill with rivers of water, and one of my classmates who lived outside the city lost his house to it all one year.”

The more Freddie talks, the more animated he gets. It makes you want to kiss him, or ask a thousand questions of your own, but you don’t want to interrupt his story. You have a feeling that, if you do, he won’t resume it. So you stay quiet, occasionally jumping a little at a particularly loud burst of thunder or ominous groan from the building as it’s buffeted by the wind, but the more engrossed you become in Freddie’s story the less the storm bothers you.

“We knew to expect them, and what to expect from them, but tragedies still happened every year and that didn’t stop the monsoons from coming. You just have to hold onto those you love and move forward, no matter what the whims of nature may throw your way.”

Freddie shifts so the two of you are face to face, and when he smiles it’s so gentle and full of love that it makes your heart ache to see it. “I can’t promise you that nothing bad will happen because of this storm. But I can promise you that we’ll get through it together, alright darling? And in the meantime, I’ll do my best to distract you however you want.”

You kiss Freddie, with a mumbled, “I love you, Freddie,” that’s mostly lost in the press of his mouth against yours and the rumble of thunder outside, but the storm seems like a distant worry now. You press close to Freddie, deepening the kiss, feeling every inch of where your bodies touch and wanting _more_ , wanting to disappear into Freddie until he’s all you can feel and all you can think about.

This time it’s Freddie who pulls back first and he says, “I promise I didn’t tell you that story just to get in your pants.”

You laugh, and give him another quick peck. “I know,” you tell him, before rolling on top of him and smiling wickedly down at him. “But it’s now “later” and you _did_ promise me distractions…”

Freddie laughs, bright and delighted, and surges up to kiss you again. And if you jump a little at a particularly violent crack of lightning, you pretend it’s just because his hands start wandering south and he’s kind enough not to comment on it.

——————————-

When you wake up the next morning, the sun is shining through the bedroom window and Freddie is nowhere to be seen. You try to turn on the lamp by the side of the bed but it stays off. The power is still out, then, but with the storm passed and the light of day brightening the room you don’t feel on-edge like you did the night before.

It’s not until you leave the bedroom that you realize the flat isn’t entirely silent. There’s the low sound of music coming from the kitchen, and as you walk in you can see Freddie leaning over the stovetop with the battery-powered radio that you know was dead last night playing some quiet tune.

“You found the batteries, then?” you ask.

Freddie jumps and turns to face you. “Fuck, Y/N, make some noise next time! You scared me half to death, dear!”

You laugh and lean up to give him a quick kiss. “Sorry, Fred.” You nod towards the radio on the counter and ask again, “Batteries?”

“Yes, well, now that it’s not pitch-black in here I was able to find a few in the back of the hall closet,” Freddie says. “Popped two in the radio so we can hear any updates on getting power back, and put the rest in the torches just in case we need them tonight. And I was trying to see if I can get a burner lit to make tea, but-”

You pluck the lighter out of Freddie’s hand and nudge him away from the stove. “ _You_ are a menace in the kitchen, so _I’ll_ get the hot water sorted.”

Freddie pouts. “Excuse me, I made soup last night!”

“You did,” you agree. “But I still don’t fancy you burning down the place trying to get the gas lit.”

Freddie huffs and you kiss him again, a little longer this time, one hand come up to cradle his face. “I still love you, though,” you tell him, when you finally pull away. “And… thank you. For last night, I mean. Most people just laugh at me, and-”

“I would never,” Freddie interrupts gently, a soft smile on his face. “There are far more irrational things you could be afraid of, and I wouldn’t laugh about those either.” He kisses you again, then kisses your noise, your cheek, and when you turn your head, laughing, he lands a final kiss almost on your ear. “Now, I believe I was promised tea? Unless you’d rather head back to bed instead…”

You think about that for a moment, before tossing the lighter on the counter and dropping your hands to hold onto Freddie’s waist, pulling him close to you. He looks genuinely surprised by the action and you can’t help but tease, “You know, sometimes I can be romantic too…”

“More like you can be-” Freddie begins, but you cut him off with another kiss and the two of you stumble back towards the bedroom.


End file.
